Up, Up and . . . CRASH

When I was 12 years old, I decided to create a super-hero. Sitting in my Dad's basement, sitting at the exact same desk I'm typing this at, I drew this super-hero and proceeded to draw him teaming up with the X-Men.

When I was 13 years old, I started writing short stories about this character, as well as other new characters. I finished these short stories early in the 8th grade, collected them in a binder and proceeded to write three sequels over the course of the year. I call this Version One.

I started Version Two the following Fall, just as I entered high school. Version Two was basically Version One, just with the first two books re-written. At the end of that year, I kicked off Version Three. Version Three was kingly. At this point, I had all my character down pat, I had revised my approach to the story and really put some serious work into building their universe. After I finished the four major books, I moved on and did sequels.

Sometime around the beginning of Junior year, I decided it was time for Version Four. Version Four was the culmination of all the re-writes. It was perfection in a black binder. I had friends read it at school and even had one of them do a wicked ass cover. Pre-Mrs. W even drew a picture of the main character (he looked nothing like how I pictured, but it impressed me).

I then did something stupid. Instead of going back re-writing it, I tried to write sequels to Version Four. What's worse, I wouldn't stop! The first sequel sucked and I knew it. I should have gone back to forumla, but instead . . . I tried for a trilogy. It stunk.

After Version Four, there have been numerous attempts at this story. Comic book scripts. Attempts to introduce the main character with amensia. Establishing the characters as they're a team as opposed to bringing them together.

Last year, unexpectedly, I ended writing a 12-part story about these characters. It was nothing too exciting and not my best, but I loved writing them again. It took place a few years after the story that's been attempted to be re-told a million times. Like I said, I loved it.

So I thought "Man, this is it. You had a good time writing them again, so let's go back to the beginning and start from ground zero."

And I wrote one chapter. And it was okay. Then I wrote the current chapter. And it was crap.

It's like this lightning in a bottle. I just can't write it anymore. I try. And try. And try and try and try and try and just can't get it right. I screw it up somewhere and the whole thing just collapses. Sentences are akward, paragraphs are too short, dialogue is funky, and I lose the ultimate direction I was moving in. Outlines don't help. "Beta" readers don't help (well, I have one and that's my wife). I stare at it and I see the letters melting to the bottom of my page in one digital blob of badness.

Ugh.